


The True Lives

by SaltyStages



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-10
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 05:21:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1128817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaltyStages/pseuds/SaltyStages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of what happened before SING and Na Na Na. Co-Written with my best friend and my sister.</p>
<p>Unfamiliar characters:<br/>Amara (Missile Kid) - The Girl.<br/>Aeon (DJ Hot Chimp): The blonde girl driving the getaway van in SING<br/>Jenny: Mentioned in the lyrics of Bulletproof Heart</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And We're Leaving Today, We'll Never Go Home

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter written by Deming, italics by Jennifer.

She let her muscles relax as the train wobbled back and forth on the tracks. Her head did the same as her neck muscles became lax. Aeon alternated between watching the world race by and watching the people who were racing with her. She didn't know anyone there, but for some reason none of them felt like strangers. They were all headed in the same direction and that simple fact united them in some small way. The train slowed to a stop and some passengers got off and fresh new ones replaced them. 

A group of three men were the last passengers to board. They were dressed in punk clothes, each with a distinctive style and taste. The first one had blond hair and was a tad skinner that the rest. He had the look of a short fuse. Aeon guessed he didn't like traveling much. The second had long, stringy black hair. He had an easy smile, but it was one that seemed to bespeak of some hidden and quite amusing secret. One with bright red hair and deep-set eyes was the third to board. This one was the most striking to Aeon. Perhaps it was the brightness of his hair, but Aeon thought it was because of his presence. The trio had a dark an ominous air around them and yet to Aeon they looked lost and a little tragic. Like homesick runaways, which for all she knew, they very well could have been. They filled the seats surrounding Aeon. The red-haired one approached her.

"May I sit here?" He asked quietly, indicating the seat next to her. His haunting eyes searched hers and Aeon felt as if they could see straight through her. Her voice became trapped within her throat. She was torn between her curiosity and her prudence. Her parents had warned her away from traveling with strangers. Particularly male strangers.  
Before Aeon could respond one last passenger came thundering onto the train in a rush. He got on just as the train's doors were closing. His hair was a wild wall of curls around his head and he wore a dark pair of aviator sunglasses.

"Sorry guys," he said as he deposited his luggage in the storing area. He took a seat opposite of Aeon.

"You had to wait till the last minute to take a piss? You almost missed the train." The one with blond hair asked shortly. This made the one with the smirk snicker.

"Aw don't listen to Mikey, Ray. He was just worried we would leave you behind," The smirking one patted the wild haired one's shoulder. His name must have been Ray then.

"He always does this," The blond guy, whose name Aeon guessed was Mikey, shook his head. Ray shrugged Mikey's observation off.

"I may be late, but I never miss anything," he countered with a grin. This made the dark-haired one snicker again. Aeon did not hear the rest of the conversation as the one with the bright red hair spoke to her.

"About that chair. . ." He began, bringing her attention back to his request.

"Oh, yeah," Aeon replied, "Go right ahead." Aeon felt both relief and worry now that she had given into her curiosity. She adjusted her position to make room for him, for she had been sprawled out across both seats. "Where are you and your friends headed?" She inquired. The one seated in front of her, who she remember was named Mikey turned to answer.

"Mercer City," he said dryly. Aeon realized as she got her first good look at him he must be related to the red-haired one, because they looked a bit alike. Brothers perhaps, or maybe cousins, she decided. The blond one stuck his hand out to her.

"What's your name?" The smirky thrust his chin in her direction.

"Aeon," She replied shyly.

"I'm Frank," he said offering his hand to her.

"Pleasure to meet you Frank," Aeon half-spoke, half-chuckled. She was a little amused at his friendliness. "Mercer City, that's right next to where I'm headed."

"Oh yeah? You must be going to Battery City then," the one with wild hair said. "I'm Ray." He too shook hands with Aeon.

"Mikey," The blond one said, appearing, for the first since he boarded to be genuinely friendly.

"This is Mikey's big brother, Gee," Frank said reaching across the aisle to slap the red-haired on the shoulder.

He gave Frank a look that would have chilled Aeon to her soul if it was turned on her, but Frank seemed completely unfazed at the death glare. Mikey shook his head ruefully, acting as if this were typical of the two.

"My name is Gerard," the red-haired one said at last offering his gloved hand to Aeon. She smiled as she shook it.

"Mercer city is a ten-hour ride from here," she observed. "Why the long commute?" She wasn't normally this nosy. In fact, when it came to traveling, Aeon preferred to keep conversation with strangers to a minimum. But something about these four men piqued her curiosity, And the question was out of her mouth before she could sensor it.

"We're relocating," the one called Ray replied, making sound like a military strategy.  
"Yeah our former home was a bit too . . . crowded," Mikey elaborated, pausing to search for the right word.

"We're looking for someplace quieter," Gerard put in just as the train started moving again.  
"A little more remote," Frank added.

"You guys realize that Mercer City is right next to the country's largest metropolis, right?" Aeon said realizing too late how rude that sounded. What was wrong with her today? Why was her mouth running away from her like this? She was going to apologize when the four started laughing.

"Sometimes Mikey here can't live without Taco Bell," Ray chuckled. The others echoed his laughter but Aeon felt there was some inside joke she wasn't privy too. She joined in their mirth anyway.

"So why are you headed that way?" Frank asked, once their mirth had died down.  
Aeon looked down. She didn't want to lay all her baggage on complete strangers, especially ones that were being so nice to her. So she simply said, "I'm relocating as well, for job purposes." It was only half of the truth. Were lies of omission still lies?

"Oh yeah? What do you do?" Mikey asked, seeming genuinely interested and not just asking out of politeness.

"I fix things," Aeon replied. "Cars, computers, plumbing, you name it. I'm you're girl. Machines speak and I listen."

"That quite a unique gift," Gerard commented, looking at her in that way that made Aeon feel as if his eyes laid bare her very soul. Could almost complete strangers do that?

"Thanks," she said avoiding eye contact with him, she wasn't sure if she liked the way his eyes bored into her.

"Aren't there things to fix where you're from?" Ray asked, looking a tad confused.

"Not enough to make a living from," Aeon replied with a smile.

"Ah and Blind capitol is swimming with aristocrats who have things that need fixing, right?" Frank asked with a wry grin.

"Precisely," Aeon laughed genuinely this time. Fank chuckled along with her.

*

After that Aeon got to talking with each of them. She felt more comfortable now that the ice was broken. It seemed that they were musicians, who were just looking for someplace a little more peaceful to clear their heads. But they also needed to be close to a big city in order to find gigs. Mercer City was the perfect place. It was a small, rundown city situated in the desert but it was only forty-five minutes away from Battery City, which was home to the corporation Better Living Industries. In fact the only reason anyone knew there was a Mercer City was because of its neighbor. As a big city, Battery City would provide the foursome with a lot of opportunities for gigs.

At one point during the train ride, one of the guys pulled out a large bag full of travel games. Checkers soon became everyone's game of choice and Aeon became the champion. After beating Mikey, Frank, and Ray multiple times, Aeon found herself locked in a battle with Gerard. The others watched intently as the game boiled down to four of Gerard's pieces against three of Aeon's. She stared at the board as she calculated her next move carefully. Gerard had one of her kings backed into a corner with two of his kings. His other two pieces blocked another of hers from being kinged. Aeon's last free piece was useless; moving it would neither help nor harm her.

"No way she can win this now, Gee," Ray said, his eyes darting from Aeon to the board and then back again.  
"Yeah, you got this one," Frank echoed. Gerard simply smirked as he waited for Aeon to move. Finally she moved the almost-kinged piece away from his two blocking pieces.  
"You're only delaying the inevitable," Mikey said with a warning tone in his voice.  
"Ye of little faith," Aeon replied. "I did beat the lot of you, didn't I?" She indicated them with a thrust of her chin. They fell silent and Gerard stifled a snicker. He moved his piece to follow her retreating one. 

"I see what you're doing," he said casting a glance at her from beneath his brow.

"Do you now?" She replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. It won't work."

"Enlighten me," she dared him, "what am I doing?" Gerard simply shook his head, a sly half-smile painted on his face.  
The game of cat-and-mouse between their pieces continued for several turns until Aeon lost one of her pieces and Gerard lost two. Now they were down to the wire. Aeon was beginning to believe she would win when suddenly Gerard claimed her king. After that, the game came to close and Aeon lost.

Cheers sounded off from the other three and they raised Gerard's arm up in the air. Aeon leaned back in her seat with her arms folded across her chest. Her expression was that of amusement. She normally wasn't very competitive and so losing this game didn't really bother her. After receiving many hugs and slaps on the back, Gerard turned to Aeon and executed a flourishing bow. The gesture made her giggle.

"Well played, Miss Aeon," He said, his eyes reflecting mirth and triumph.

"And you too . . . Gee" Aeon replied, already knowing that pet name irked him. The other three boys made "ooh" noises as if she had just issued a verbal burn. Gerard grinned at her response. Aeon stood up and stretched her limbs out as the boys returned to their seats.

"That was one hell of a game," Mikey complimented. "Let's go get some food, I'm starving."

"Sounds like a good idea," Aeon replied and linked her arm with his. Mikey seemed like a nice guy, when he didn't loose his temper.

"Hey Mikey, buy me a sandwich, would ya?" Ray requested.

"Get your own food, man," Mikey scoffed as he left the seating area with Aeon in tow. They made their way through a few cars to the café.

"Thanks for warning me that your brother was a master checkers player," Aeon said in fake-indignation.

"To be honest, I had no idea he was hiding ninja checkers skills under his belt," Mikey responded while his eyes searched the menu. "I mean we played when we were kids and stuff . . ." he trailed off.

"Maybe his victory was just a fluke," Aeon suggested a she picked out what she wanted: a croissant and a cup of coffee. She was about to pay when Mikey stopped her.

"Ah ah ah, this one's on me," he grinned and then paid for both of their meals.

"Thank you very much," Aeon gave him a gracious hug and then they returned to their seats.  
When they got there Ray had fallen asleep and Frank had pulled headphones over his ears. Gerard was nowhere to be seen. Mikey settled back in his seat a dug into his food. Aeon set her food on the table in front of her seat and asked Frank to guard it. She checked her phone to see what time it was and her heart started beating erratically. How had she lost track of time like this? Aeon tried to take deep, normal breaths as she dug into her bag for something. Drawing out a little case, Aeon slipped it in her pocket and head towards a bathroom. Her steps were hurried and shaky, still her heart pounded irregularly in her ears. Breaths were shallow and Aeon prayed she wouldn't collapse. Her head was down, pointed at her toes, and so she didn't notice Gerard until she collided with him. Aeon fell to her knees and her case was knocked out of her hand.

"Oh," he exclaimed as he helped her up to her feet. Aeon floundered for the case she dropped but Gerard had retrieved that as well. "I'm sorry, that was my fault." He regarded the little case before handing it back to her.

"That's alright," she dismissed and tried to move past him. But he caught her arm and peered at her face.

"Are you ok?" He asked, concern lacing his voice. His soul-searching eyes gazed into hers.

"I'm fine," she forced out a smile and willed her limbs to quit trembling. Gerard paused, considering her with doubt in his eyes. Finally he released her and nodded, seemly convinced in her act.

Aeon didn't look back as she hurried into the bathroom and locked the door. Her encounter with Gerard had sent her heart beating even more wildly. Aeon's fingers fumbled to open the little case. Concealed within it were little white and red capsules and Aeon extracted two of them. Popping them into her mouth, she swallowed the drugs dry and wait for them to take effect.  
Slowly, Aeon's pulse normalized and her breath became easier. She refreshed her appearance, because this episode had left her sweaty and disheveled.

Absently, Aeon hoped Gerard hadn't seen the tiny Better Living Industries logo in the bottom left-hand corner on her case of pills.

*

_Here, in the heart of the desert, a chilling scene lay before Jenny as Gee ran to catch up. He stopped in his tracks. "Is that-?"_

_"Yes." Jenny replied. They stared in silence. On the desert floor, the last bald eagle lay dying. Jenny dropped to her knees._

_"It's gonna be all right."_

_"Don't you see? This, dying in front of us, this is America. She's dying and we can't do anything to stop it. The very last vestiges of all we once stood for is coughing blood onto the sand. So that leaves us, the widows and widowers of America. Like a widow I will beat my chest and cry for her. I will cry for Lady Liberty."_

_Gee stooped down and plucked a single feather from bird. "Here. Wear this, as a widow. Let this remind you, and give you strength to carry on."_


	2. The Little Children Raise their Open Filthy Palms

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by me, italics by Jennifer

When Aeon got to her seat, she felt better, as if the ordeal had never happened. She settled into her seat and looked out the window, careful to avoid the quizzical stares of the men surrounding her. She noticed the landscape slowing down. The loudspeaker crackled on quietly. 

"Hello, passengers," The small voice of the conductor barely rose above the muted din of the other riders. "We're making an unexpected stop to refuel. The train depot has a restaurant inside which you can all be comfortable and cozy. Everyone must leave the train, and it might be an hour wait." Aeon had to struggle to hear what he said, and only heard part of what he said next. "Belongings...train..." The sound cut off.

"What was that about belongings," Mikey wondered aloud. "Do we take them or leave them?"

"I'm not sure," answered Ray. "I'll find someone and ask." He rose and disappeared down the aisle. As he left, other passengers started getting up and putting together their things, so   
Aeon did the same. Ray came back and addressed the band.

"We can either leave our stuff or take it. He suggests the big luggage be left and the small stuff taken with us, even though no one's gonna be on the train. He also told me the train depot's restaurant is really good. There's an arcade and even a souvenir shop."

"Awesome," said Frank. "I love seeing knick knacks from places I've never heard of." He laughed.

"Let's go," Gerard interjected, perhaps impatient. "Just stop already," He addressed the train, which had slowed to a snail's pace. Finally it pulled to a halt. Gerard sighed in relief. Aeon noticed he was on edge.

As the five of them stepped off the train, Aeon felt herself abruptly pulled to the left. Gerard had her by the arm.

"What happened back there?" He inquired.

"Nothing, what are you talking about," she answered innocently.

"You looked like you were having a panic attack. You were freaking out, and what was that box might I add?"

"It..." Aeon trailed off when she saw his suspicious face. "I'll tell you later. I promise. But right now we gotta catch up with the guys."

"Fine. But I'm holding you to it," Gerard assured her. He stood still for a moment, the un-trusting look remaining on his face. Then he smiled and held his hand out to her. "Come on."

As Gerard and Aeon walked towards the others, Aeon felt something hit her in the neck. She looked down, stunned. It was a clod of dirt. Aeon looked up and saw Frank averting his eyes, whistling. He had a sneaky grin on his face. Suddenly, he threw a hidden clod at Gerard. Gerard narrowed his eyes.

"That's it! You're dead," Gerard yelled lightheartedly. He picked up a small stone and threw it at Frank. It missed Frank and hit Mikey in the leg.

"OW!" He yelled, angry. After a second, he shook his head and picked up a stick. Aeon rolled her eyes, also grinning. She locked eyes with Ray and jerked her head to the left, indicating that she'd be wandering off by herself. He nodded. Aeon walked away from the yelling and laughing. She walked until she found a collection of large boulders. She climbed onto the flattest one and pulled a small notebook out of her pocket. She took the pen out of the spiral and started writing. Aeon found writing to be a therapeutic cure for stressful events. The entire train ride had taken its toll on her.

After what felt like an hour of intense writing, Aeon looked up. She thought she had seen a shadow. It must be one of the men, she thought to herself. She looked back down and kept writing. As soon as her pen started moving, another shadow crossed her path. She ignored it. She assumed it was Frank pulling a prank on her. The shadow stopped moving, but Aeon stopped writing anyway. She could feel someone staring at her. She looked up and was surprised. She was so startled that she gasped and fell backwards off the rock. As she lay on the ground, holding her arm in pain, something blocked the sun. Aeon squinted up at the small face and wondered who it was. 

"Come on, let me help you up. I'm sorry I scared you," said the little creature. Aeon sat up and looked around. She saw her guest was a little girl with wild hair and dark tanned skin. The child held her hand out to Aeon, a worried look on her face. Aeon took her dirty hand and stood up, dusting her clothes off. 

"Who are you," The little girl inquired.

"I could ask you the same thing. Why are you wandering the desert alone," answered Aeon.

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"I-" The child was cut off by a voice in the distance.

"Aeon, where are you?" It was Ray.

"I'm over here, Ray!" Aeon called over her shoulder, still looking at the girl. Ray came over, kicking up sand as he came. He wiped the sweat off his face and glanced at the girl. 

"Who are you?"

"I'm Amara. What are your names?" They told her their names and shook hands with her.

"Okay, well it was nice to meet you. Aeon, we gotta go. The train is gonna leave soon.

"WAIT!" Amara shouted loudly, startling the other two. "Please, take me with you."  
Aeon and Ray shared confused looks. Amara shuffled her feet sheepishly. "Please," she asked again.

"We would have to ask the others. Come with us," Ray said slowly and carefully. The three of them walked in the other direction and soon came upon the other men. They were sitting in a circle a few feet away from the entryway of the train depot.  
Hearing footsteps, the men looked up. All three of them were shoveling food into their mouths, and as Frank raised his head, a piece of cheese fell from his full mouth. He paid no mind to the food he was eating as he said loudly,

"Who's that?" Due to his full-mouthed state, the question came out, "Oo dat?" Amara giggled. Mikey slapped Frank on the back, making him choke.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, it's rude to the ladies," he scolded Frank. "I'm with Frank, though. Who's that?"

"Her na-" Aeon started

"My name's Amara," the small girl interjected. The men nodded.

"But what are you doing here," Gerard asked, confused and concerned."Why are you wandering around the desert? What are you, eight?"

"I'm ten, for your information," the child informed him indignantly, standing tall.

"Oh," he was humbled. "Sorry about that."

"I'm here because..." she stopped. "I can't say."

"You're gonna have to tell us something, kiddo. We need to know," reasoned Gerard.

"All right, I'll tell you. But only if you promise I can come with you."

"Wha?" Frank looked up again, mouth once again filled with sandwich. "Come wiv us?"

"Yeah, man. She wants to tag along on the train," Ray stepped forward. "If you're mouth weren't so full and your head so empty, I'd have been able to tell you." Frank stuck his food-laden tongue at Ray, who turned his head in amused disgust.

"Yeah, kiddo. We'll take you if you tell us what's up," Gerard assured her.

"Unless you've killed someone," added Mikey. The other men looked at him. He chuckled and said, 

"I'm kidding. I AM kidding, right, Amara?"

"Yes. I'd never kill someone," she answered solemnly. 

"So. Talk," asserted Mikey. Amara, Aeon, and Ray sat down next to Frank, Gerard, and Mikey. 

Amara crossed her legs, sighed, and started talking.

"Well, as you know, my name is Amara. It means strong-willed, and unyeilding.

"It also means grace," Gerard added, looking lost in his thoughts. He almost seemed as if he weren't paying attention. Amara stared at him and finally continued speaking.

"Yes. It also means grace. My mother gave me that name. It's all I know of her. She's dead." As she said this, Frank's eyes widened, and his sandwich was gulped down. He barely noticed the fact that he was choking again, and this time it was Ray who slapped him on the back. 

"I've lived all my life in a little town a few miles from here, with people that were acquaintances of hers. Jamie and Matt went to school with my mother, and even though they didn't know her too well, they took me in. She had no one else to turn to. Jamie loves me as her own, and even though she doesn't know much about my mother, she always tells me whatever she can. My mother was some sort of experimental test subject for some company. She decided she didn't want to work with them anymore, and left. The man in charge tracked her down and murdered her. She had already given birth to me, and asked Matt if I could stay with them until she could find a safe place to hide. He agreed, but never saw her again. A while later, they heard of her death." Amara became silent, and looked at the ground. A single tear rolled down her face.

Everyone else were too stunned to move. Gerard sat there with a look of pure shock on his face. His face still absent, he started counting on his fingers. He counted to ten. As he was muttering to himself, Frank got up and held his hand out to Amara. She took his hand, and he lifted her to a standing position. He looked at her, and without a word, hugged her tightly. They stood there for a moment, and when he let her go, he smiled and wiped the tear from her cheek. Mikey got up as well and hugged her. One by one, Amara received hugs from everyone. Gerard was the only one who didn't hug her. He remained on the ground, looking as if he'd either been hit by a bus, or lost his mind. Maybe both, Aeon thought to herself.

A loud whistle cut through the silence, announcing the train's intent on reloading. Amara jumped violently. Poor child, thought Aeon. She's easily startled. When he heard the train, Gerard immediately snapped out of his trance. 

"Dude! Come on, we can't miss this train," he yelled at his band mates. He began shoving things back into his pack.

"Gee. Did you hear what Amara said?" Ray inquired. Gerard stopped and looked at him.

"Yes," he said simply, and continued to frantically pack. The other men followed suit. Aeon, who already had all her stuff, stood there awkwardly with Amara. The two girls watched the men in their attempts to hurry. When they all had their stuff, Gerard started running. He didn't look back, or say a word. He just ran.

Mikey shrugged at Aeon, and ran after Gerard. Aeon looked at Amara, who started running after the brothers. Amara passed them quickly. Mikey was so surprised that he stopped. Gerard slowed, but kept running. Aeon, Frank and Ray jogged towards the train, understanding they didn't have to run at breakneck speed to catch a train that was only fifty feet away. 

They all approached the line of passengers that were boarding the train. Amara disappeared into the throng of people, and the men lined up as if nothing had happened. Aeon craned her neck, looking for Amara. As they entered the doors, Aeon saw Amara sitting in a nearby seat, looking as if she'd been there the whole time. She silently got up, and followed them to where they had been sitting. Aeon was impressed by how efficiently the child had sneaked onto the train.   
The band threw their stuff down on the tables and empty seats and plopped down. All of them were still subdued, and Gerard stared out the window, ignoring all of them. He looked depressed, or angry. Amara looked up at Aeon.

"Hey, thanks for letting me come with you. You don't know what it means to me."

"Of course, sweetie. But it was really these guys," Aeon answered. Mikey tipped his head as if to say you're welcome. Frank looked at Gerard, and then down at Gerard's bag. He slowly un-zipped it and reached inside it. Gerard didn't move, and Frank pulled out the checkers board. He put it on the table and said, a little too loudly, "Who wants to play?"

Amara moved closer and smiled. She grabbed a few pieces and started setting them up. Frank grinned evilly at her and set his up as well. Aeon looked out the window, and saw that the sun was setting. It filled the landscape with a subtle red tint. She was drawn to the beauty of it, and the chatter became background noise. Amara's voice pulled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to listen.

"What's with the instruments?"

"We're a band. Me, Gee, Mikey, and Ray," Frank answered, focusing on the checkers board.

"Really? That's awesome. What are you guys called?" Amara's eyes widened in wonder.

"Mad Gear, sometimes known as the Fabulous Killjoys." Frank grinned widely.  
The train started as he replied. It rolled down the track towards its destination, leaving the sun behind.

*

_"Coming out of this place in a bullet's embrace."_

_I don't remember anything. I don't remember what they did to me at that place, I don't remember how I escaped, and I don't even remember anything from before. All I have is an image. An image that I'd think of everyday to give me hope. A face. And a name._

_Gerard._

_I remember sirens, and running barefoot down cold, gray, long hallways. I see him, my tormentor. Korse. He stands there, coldly glaring, and I'm scared. So I ran away. Then, I wake up in the desert. I'm wearing a dress, instead of the hospital gown I had on. And i'm wearing shoes. But I don't know where they came from. I'm all alone._

_I wandered the desert, delirious, confused, and lost. I was desperately trying to remember something, anything. But my mind was blank. All I had was those faces. The one I loved and the one I feared._

_It must have been days. I was dehydrated, and felt close to dying. Suddenly I saw a car tearing through the desert. Was it rescue? Or was it my captors come to find me and take me back. I looked for a place to hide, but in the desert there is nothing but shadows. So, terrified, I stood frozen as the driver of the car saw me and turned my way. It stopped in front me, and I held my breath as the passenger door opened, and a figure stepped out. All I saw was the face._

_It started coming back_

_"I got a bulletproof heart. You got a hollowpoint smile."_

_We were kids, living in small town U.S.A. and BLI was nothing but a blip on our radar. Back when guns used bullets, privacy was a right, and liberty still rang true, we ran around town, the rebellious punks we were. There was nothing we couldn't do together, and the future was ours. But things went south real fast. BLI was taking over. People started disappearing, privacy laws were done away with, individualism was discouraged, and the draft was reinstated, only the armies were all working for BLI now._

_"We had our runaway scarves, got a photograph dream on a getaway mile. Let's blow a hole in this town."_

_He got his letter first. But he wasn't going to go. He told me of an underground group that was growing. They were starting a rebellion, he said. And he was gonna join them. It was better than joining BLI. He begged me to go. But I had to stay. My parents needed me, and I couldn't just leave my home. So he left, and I stayed, regreting the decision. Soon after, his parents disappeared. I wanted to believe that they hade gone underground too, but everyone knew the penalty for draft dodging. Not the BLI needed an excuse. This became clear when my parents disappeared. I didn't wait for my letter. I took a few choice possessions, and hit the road, looking for him._

_"Gravity don't mean too much to me, is this our destiny?"_

_"Jenny?"_

_Gerard._

_"Jenny, what are doing out here?" He came towards me and pulled me into an embrace, and all i could do was stare. "Are you okay? How long have you been out here?"_

_"Is it really you?"_

_"Of course it's me. Who else would it be?"_

_"I suppose you could be a mirage, or a hallucination. Or you could be him."_

_"Who?" Gerard looked concerned, even scared._

_"You could be him, trying to trick me. You could be here to take me back."_

_"Oh, Jenny. What happened to you?"_


	3. The Devil's Got Your Number

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Deming

Gerard gazed out the train window watching the arid landscape roll by but not really seeing it. His mind was consumed with thoughts he didn't want to think. He couldn't relive those memories.

Amara, she was such a sweet kid, and so full of spirit. She reminded him so much of. . .but no, it was impossible. Gerard admitted to himself that Amara did look a bit like her. He also acknowledged that it was highly improbable that the two were related. It was just a coincidence, he told himself. There was something special about Amara; he couldn't quite determine what it was about her that made him think that.

No matter her origins, Gerard became determined that Amara would be kept safe. He felt it was necessary, that she was the key to something. A compulsion he couldn't name or control. The girl's big, round, green eyes and her beautiful smile stirred something in his heart.

*

As the hours flew by, Aeon began to notice something interesting about the Killjoys. Besides the fact that she was treated like an old high school friend with in a few minutes of meeting them, Aeon observed that all the Bl/Ind advertisements, the reminders to “take all your pills” and what not, were being tuned out. It was strange, almost peaceful. In today's world, one could hardly escape Bl/Ind's ever-present voice. Radio transmissions, video ads, billboards, and posters were even more pervasive that they were 10-15 years ago, and now the majority were Bl/Ind ads. Aeon never thought that anything could overpower their oppressiveness. But around the guys, Aeon had nearly forgotten about Bl/Ind, which is probably why she had had that bad episode earlier, which Gerard had witnessed.

Aeon shook herself from that train of thought and glanced around at the group. Frank and Amara were deadlocked in a game of checkers, while Ray looked on. Mikey had pulled out his bass and was playing it quietly. Gerard sat gazing out the window, but looked miles away. Aeon wanted to approach him but he didn't look like he wanted company at the moment. Plus, Aeon was afraid that he would hold her to her previous promise. Things would be much simpler if she kept her condition a secret. She didn't want to worry them unnecessarily, nor did Aeon want to disrupt the cheer that had descended on the group since Amara had arrived.

Well, everyone but Gerard. He seemed even more pensive than before. Aeon shrugged, and stood up and went over to where Mikey was sitting. He gave her a small smile as she sat next to him. He paused his bass-playing for a moment to acknowledge her presence. Aeon listened for a while before speaking up.

“What's the name of the song you're playing?” she asked.  
Mikey didn't falter. He chuckled. “No name,” he told her. “Not really a song, either.” he smiled faintly. “It's just how I imagined Amara would sound if she were music,” he admitted shyly.

Aeon grinned as she listened. It was beautiful, with a bouncy beat, and a bold yet complex melody. “Why, Mikey,” Aeon smiled at him admiringly, “I never suspected you were a softy inside.” Mikey looked at her horrified as he froze. She laughed and patted his arm reassuringly.   
“Don't worry, your secret is safe with me.” She smirked her quirky smirk and winked at him.

Mikey blushed and tried to brush off her teasing with a sigh and roll of his eyes. “Can you do Ray?” Aeon asked discreetly with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. This won her a full grin from Mikey.

“Just listen,” he said with a smug smirk.

*

After Aeon had heard Mikey's bass versions of the group, she returned to her seat. Gerard saw her movement, and looked over at her. He moved to sit down next to her. Outside, the sun was beginning to wane, bathing the world in a yellow-orange light. Ray and Mikey were taking Amara over to the cafe to get dinner. Frank looked like he had passed out in his seat. Gerard saw this as an opportunity to approach Aeon.

“Hey,” she said nonchalantly, even though she wasn't looking forward to what was coming. “Are you alright? You looked pretty lost in thought over there.”

“I'm alright,” he said, avoiding her gaze. “I was just. . .thinking about the past.”  
Aeon nodded, not wanting to pry. After all, they had only met a few hours ago, despite how she felt.

“That's not why I came over here,” he looked at her significantly.  
Aeon looked at her feet. “I remember my promise,” she said in a low voice.

“So start talking,” he urged. For all he knew, she could be addicted to prescription medicine. At least, that's what it seemed like. He had dealt with withdrawals before, and what he had seen greatly resembled the symptoms of withdrawal.

“I guess I'll start from the beginning. When I was 16, I was diagnosed with a rare heart condition. The doctors gave me pills to help regulate my heart. But there's only so much medicine can do. They told me I would need surgery at some point in the future, if I wanted to continue living normally. It took a few years for my parents to raise enough money to send me to Battery City, which has the best medical facilities in the country. My parents would settle for no less. They drained their savings so I could live in Battery City. What you saw before is what happens to me if I forget to take my medicine.” Aeon fell silent, waiting for his reaction.  
“I am so sorry,” Gerard said quietly. “I shouldn't have asked.”

“No it's. . .it's just that I don't want people to look at me differently. Whenever I tell anyone about my heart they run for the hills.” The words tumbled out of her mouth like an avalanche. “I was afraid it would scare you off too. And since I'm moving to a strange city I could really use some friends.”

Gerard looked at her with a half-smile and said, “I don't scare easily.”

“Good,” Aeon said matching his wry smile. It faded as she thought of something. “Are you going to tell the rest of the guys?” She asked, her smile fading and her eyes fixed on her shoelaces.  
“Well,” Gerard said frankly, “I think they would want to know, but it's up to you. If you want to keep it secret, I'll respect your decision.”

Aeon didn't look at him. She felt so naked under his gaze and it unnerved her that she let herself become so exposed. Her gaze was glued on utterly 90's geometric design of the carpet. She managed to say, “Thank you,” quietly and with sincerity.

Gerard glanced out at the scenery, “It's getting dark, we should get some rest.” He got up and went to go check on Amara.

Aeon took a quick scan of the cabin. Frank was already asleep and snoring quite loudly. She had to stifle a chuckle, not wanting to disturb him. Mikey was reclining in his seat with earbuds in, but it didn't look like he had slipped into sleep just yet. Ray looked like he couldn't get comfortable enough. He kept tossing and turning, never quite settling. Gerard was making sure Amara was comfortable, letting her lie her head down in his lap. He took to watching the landscape out the window again until Aeon saw him finally nod off.

Aeon suddenly felt very tired. The day had been very long, and eventful. Indeed, so much had happened that Aeon felt as if she had been on this train her whole life. That everything else she remembered had been a dream, and she would be on this train forever, never really arriving at her destination. She felt as if she could just fade into train with the rest of the bad 90's décor and cleaner scent. Like a ghost. . .

*

The duffel-bag thumped as Aeon dropped it into the trunk of a taxi. The sky was dark, but the florescent streetlights kept the train-station lit up like Vegas. Along with the friendly cab-driver, the guys helped load her luggage into the taxi. Except for Frank, who held a still-sleeping Amara and guarded their luggage. Aeon hugged each of the guys in turn, thanking them for everything.

“You sure you'll be alright?” Ray asked as he pulled away from her embrace.

She nodded. “All my things were shipped ahead of time to an apartment, and I have a job at a local mechanic shop.” Aeon assured the wild-haired guitarist.

“And your surgery. . .” Mikey asked, not masking his concern very well.

“I'll let you know when the date is set,” she replied, as if she were discussing a wedding or party date.

“Good,” Frank said handing Amara over to Gerard so he could hug Aeon, “cause we're gonna come bug you in the hospital till you get better.” This made Aeon smile. His levity was laced with a dose of seriousness, but it was exactly what she needed.

For a while no one said anything, but then Gerard spoke up. “Don't be a stranger,” he said with one of his wry smiles. Aeon grinned and nodded.

“Hey, we're neighbors now,” she said, “you won't be able to get rid of me.”

Gerard shook Amara gently so she could say goodbye to Aeon.

“What. . .?” Amara said groggily and looked around.

 

“Time to go, sweetie,” Gerard said and transferred her into Aeon's arms. Amara wrapped her slender arms around Aeon's neck and squeezed.

“See you around, kiddo,” Aeon said and then put Amara on her feet, leaning over so that she was eye-level with the girl. She glanced out at the rest of the guys, then back at Amara. “Make sure they stay out of trouble, will you?” Aeon asked in a low voice.

Amara grinned. “If I can,” she chuckled and hugged Aeon one last time before climbing into Ray's arms.

Aeon ducked into the cab and closed the door. She watched through the back window as the group shrunk and got farther and farther away. The car turned a corner, cutting them off from her view. She turned to face forward again, feeling uncertain about the future.  
*

Three weeks had past since Aeon arrived in Battery City. Her surgery was scheduled for the following week on Monday and everything was going well. She hadn't seen the guys since she got here, but she had talked with them on the phone. They were surprisingly vague about their activities over the past three weeks, but Aeon was so busy at work that she didn't have much time to wonder about it.

Word had spread about Aeon's mechanical genius and soon her shop became the most highly recommended mechanist shop in town. This had her boss scheduling her extra shifts and working overtime. Despite the fact the extra work was detrimental to her condition, Aeon couldn't say no. She loved what she did and she didn't want to risk getting fired.

It was during one of these additional shifts, on the Friday before her surgery, that Aeon got an unexpected visitor. He strode into the garage with and air of confidence and purpose. The sun had already set, so the shop was awash with the yellow glow of old light-bubs. It was quiet except for the distant sound of a radio station playing rock music. To the visitor's surprise, the shop was apparently vacant.

“Hello?” He called out, knowing someone must in the open and aglow garage. There was a clatter of tools and a movement from the corner of his eyes.

“I'll be with you in just a second,” a feminine voice called from behind the open hood of a 1996 Jeep Cherokee. The man sauntered over to the 23-year-old car and saw a young woman with light-brown hair bent over the engine. “Broken belt,” Aeon informed the stranger without looking up from her work. She extracted the part in question from the Jeep. “And I thought this one would be a challenge.” Aeon discarded the shredded belt and finally looked the man in the face.

The man had deep-set eyes, with dark circles underneath, and a bald head. He was dressed in a curious mix between a 30's cat, an 1800's pirate, and a cowboy. Aeon had to stare at him for a few moments before she remembered herself.

“What can I do for you, mister. . .” she paused giving him the opportunity to supply his name.

“Korse,” he said to her with mild smile and a calm voice.  
“Mr. Korse,” Aeon repeated with a friendly smile. She stuck out her hand and then realized it was dirty. “Sorry, I'm Aeon Riley. Korse. . .why does that name sound familiar? Oh! You're the guy who runs Better Living Industries aren't you?” Aeon asked as she walked into a bathroom to wash her hands. “Or do you just have the same name as him. I'm sorry, I really am terrible at keeping up with the news. Well you must be the Korse, I don't think I've ever heard of anyone else with that name.” She prattled on, raising her voice so he could hear her while he stood waiting at the Cherokee. Aeon came out of the bathroom and finally shook his hand properly. 

“Here I am going on and on when you probably just want to talk business.”

“It's quite alright Ms. Riley,” Korse said in his even tone. In the background the radio switched from music to the voice of the DJ.

“Good evening tumbleweeds! Those tiny radioactive lights in the air are so beautiful tonight, they're making me think back to the good old days. This one goes out to all my stars in that overhead velvety blanket who remembers the time before we were blind.” A guitar riff started playing and Aeon recognized the song as “Video Killed the Radio Star”. Korse was visibly peeved, though he tried a great deal to hide his ire.

“RILEY!” A thunderous voice boomed from another room. “I told you to turn that mutinous shit off! I don't want it playing in my garage!”

“Alright Carl,” Aeon said and grudgingly acquiesced. “Sorry that's my boss,” she said to Korse. He nodded.

“I completely understand, Ms-”

“Please, you can just call me Aeon, if you like,” she interrupted, dismissing the formalities.

“Well, Aeon, it seems as if you have some workplace tension going on.” He said reasonably.

She sighed and sat down in chair behind the front desk. “It's nothing I can't handle,” Aeon shrugged. “So you never did tell me how 'Carl's Auto Repair' can be of service to you.”

“Actually, Aeon, I came here for you,” Korse said with that same slight-smile on his face. Aeon's brow wrinkled in confusion.

“For me?” She asked, not understanding.

“Yes, I came here to offer you a job at Bewtter Living Industries,” he stated frankly.

"Oh. . .” Aeon was taken off-guard. “Oh, wow. I don't know what to say. . .” she felt suddenly self-conscious and shy. Aeon wasn't a fool, she saw what BL/Ind was doing to the country. She knew what it would mean if she worked for them. But how could she turn Korse down without offending him, something she also knew wasn't wise to do? Aeon all of the sudden had the sensation of being caught in a net made of gold.

“You'd have better pay and. . .” he looked around at the garage with disdain, “working conditions. All your future medical and dental expenses will be covered.” His voice had a gravely quality, but his words were dripping with honey. “And much more.”

Aeon mustered all the sincerity at her disposal, “Mr. Korse, that sounds wonderful . . . but I just started working here and I feel like I just got settled in. Despite what I said earlier, this job is challenging, and I like testing my abilities. Carl may seem as though he doesn't like me, but the truth is he needs me. I'm not trying to sound egotistical, I promise.” It took all of her care to explain things to him slowly, and not have the words rush out of her mouth as they were want to do.

Korse eyed her for a moment, seeming to weigh her intent carefully. Then he smiled, matching the sickly-sweetness of his words, “What a shame. Oh well, Aeon, I respect your choice.” He reached into his tweed overcoat and pulled out a business-card and set it on the desk. “If you should reconsider, the offer stands.” He turned abruptly and strode out of the shop with the same air of confidence as he strode in. As Korse was leaving, he said without turning around, “I hope your surgery goes well.”

The parting words had such an ominous timbre to them that Aeon wondered if she had just made a massive mistake and doomed herself.


	4. Party Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by me

Amara opened her eyes. She looked around, confused about her surroundings. It was dark, and the air was cold. It must be very late, she told herself. She remembered telling Aeon goodbye, and feeling sad that she may not see her again. She didn't remember anything past that. Amara had her chin resting on Ray's shoulder, who was holding her. He was talking to someone in a muted voice, probably trying not to wake her. She was careful to stay silent and still, because she didn't want him knowing she was awake.

"I hope she's gonna be okay," Gerard was saying.

"I'm sure she'll be fine, Gee," Ray answered.

"Okay," Gerard answered, unconvinced. "Now come on. We gotta find..." he trailed off.  
Amara sat there in Ray's arms, curious and impatient. Why didn't he say who they were looking for? By the sound of his voice, it seemed as if he didn't even know who it was. She needed to know, because the less she knew, the less she could trust them. Amara hated to think like that, but she had learned to be wary of people. Matt and Jamie had taught her well.

"Yeah, do we actually know who we're meeting? The message just said to come here," Mikey said.

"How do we know we can trust this person," asked Frank, surprisingly somber.

"We don't know," sighed Gerard. "They gave us a password, and only Killjoys have access to the site we were on."

"The password could have been intercepted," Frank pointed out.

"Yes, but what other choice do we have? I don't like it any more than you do. We're just gonna have to be on our guard." Gerard submitted.

The men were quiet for a while, and Amara felt herself starting to cramp in Ray's arms. She knew she would get no more information, so she decided to make her consciousness known. She stirred, yawning. Ray turned his head towards her, and put her down.

"Hey, Amara. Now's a good time to wake up. Our...friend...will be here any minute." He murmured to her. She looked up at him with a worried look.

"Would...would I be able to go with you?" Amara asked, trying to sound nonchalant. She had gotten used to being on her own, but she felt connected to Mad Gear. She wanted nothing more at this moment to stay with them.

"We were gonna ask you that," answered Gerard. "We really don't want to send you out on your own, but that's you decision, not ours." Amara was relieved.

"I've never been to Battery City. It'd be nice to have someone I know showing me around, help me get on my feet," Amara told them vaguely.

"Sweetie, the truth of the matter is, we don't feel comfortable leaving you in a strange city all by yourself. You're only ten," Mikey reasoned.

"I know how to take care of myself, Mikey," Amara told him, her feelings hurt.

"Yes, I'm sure. But if anything happened to you, something beyond your control, we wouldn't be able to live with the guilt," Gerard told her.

"Plus, I need someone to beat at checkers. I'm the worst of us four," Frank smiled.

"Okay. I guess I'll go with you," Amara shrugged, admiring her technique. She was the one to make the request, and had turned it so she was the one being persuaded.

Out of the darkness, a slight scraping noise pierced the silence. What was that sound? It sounded like wheels of some sort. A figure became rapidly illuminated in the lights that bordered the train station. Gerard reflexively moved in front of Amara, protecting her. A person came gliding into view, and Amara was shocked. This person was wearing the weirdest garb, and Amara couldn't tell whether they were male or female. The stranger was wearing polka-dot leggings, and a white half-shirt. The word NOISE blared at Amara from the half-shirt. The person was also sporting a thong over the leggings, and wearing a helmet. Amara looked down, and saw the reason the stranger was wearing a helmet, and seemingly glided. This person was wearing roller skates. Amara looked around and saw that the four men looked just as awestruck as she was.

The figure pulled to a halt in front of them and pulled off the helmet. It was a man. He faced Gerard, and looked at him for a long minute, a huge grin on his face.

"Gerard! Aw, man it's been forever!" He pulled a bewildered Gerard into a tight hug. Gerard pulled away, and looked into the man's eyes curiously. His face lit up with recognition, and he patted the man on the back.

"You're right, it has been forever. You haven't changed a bit, um..." Gerard trailed off, searching for a name.

"Show Pony. Well, that's my name now, anyway. It's been so long since I've used my old name, I've forgotten what it is."

"Ah, your Killjoy name, eh? I was never with any of you long enough to get one, myself," Gerard said, his spirits lifted.

"Well, come on, let's not talk about that here," said Show Pony. He looked at Gerard's companions quizzically.

"Oh, this is my band," Gerard answered Show Pony's unasked question. As he introduced all the adults, Amara's eyes wandered. She looked out into the darkness, letting her mind wander. She   
snapped out of her trance when Ray said her name.

"What?" She asked, looking up.

"Amara, this is Show Pony. He's an old friend of mine from-" Gerard cut himself off. "From a while back," he recovered. Show Pony and Amara shook hands.

"You can call me Show," he told her, smiling sweetly. "Come on, you lot. We shouldn't be standing around this late. The van's over here, I'll help you with your luggage." He picked up Gerard's suitcase and skated into the darkness. The group followed him, and before they knew it, the were standing next to an old, shabby van. Amara yawned as they loaded their gear into the van. When they finished, she was lifted into the back seat by Ray. She fell asleep as soon as her head hit the headrest.

Amara woke up for what felt like the hundredth time that night, to her shoulder being shaken. Show's reassuring face was the first thing she saw.

"Come on, little Amara. Time to go in." Amara stepped out of the van, and saw a tiny diner. She walked into the small door, and stood in the dusty diner, waiting for the men to join her. She entered a room on the side of the dining room, and came to a bedroom. She sat on the bed, and picked at a frayed thread in the blanket. She yawned loudly, and fell asleep, dropping onto the bed.

*

Amara woke to the sun blinding her. She was sweating; it was hot already. She groaned, knowing it was gonna be like this from this point on. This was the consequence of coming to Battery City. Or the surrounding zones, anyway. Amara sat up and looked around. The bedroom was very small and smelled of musty fabric. She got out of the bed, and opened the door to the diner. Frank, Gerard, Mikey, and Ray were all sitting at a booth, laughing and chatting.

"Hey," Amara said, and they all looked up. Frank smiled at her, and moved over in the booth, patting the seat beside him. Amara sat next to him and looked around the table. There were a multitude of white cans sprawled on the table, and they had the notorious Better Living Industry logos on the labels. The men were shoveling the food into their mouths hungrily, looking disgusted by the taste. Amara looked closer at the cans, and saw a picture of a pointy-eared dog. They were eating dog food.

"Ew. What are you eating?" Inquired Amara as she picked up a can.

"It's all we've got. It doesn't taste so bad once you get used to it," answered Ray. Mikey choked and gagged, making Ray's statement seem less viable. Amara shrugged, and dipped her finger in the can anyway. She hesitantly brought the goop to her tongue.

"Bleckkk!" She retched. She glanced at the men, who were looking at her expectantly. She continued eating slowly, trying not to choke.

"Look alive, sunshine!" Came a voice out of the early morning silence. Amara turned to see a man in a motorized wheelchair. He had long, stringy black hair, a mustache, and thick sideburns. His eyes were hidden by dark sunglasses, and wore a bandana. He had addressed Show, who was sitting in a nearby chair, fiddling with his skates.

"Oh," the man said, surprised. "Look alive, sunshines, I guess. I forgot we had guests. Nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Death Defying. Just call me Dr. D," he extended his hand to Gerard, who shook it heartily.

"Thanks for taking us in, man. It's really kind of you."

"No problem. Now, who are the rest of you?" He inquired, looking at the group.

They each introduced themselves, shaking hands. There's a lot of that going on around here, Amara thought to herself. She smiled at Dr. D when he shook her hand, but inwardly cringed, because he had a very firm grip. He aimed his little vehicle to the end of the table that wasn't a booth and opened a can of Power Pup. He started talking as he ate.

"All right. First of all, you guys can stay here as long as you want. I have two requirements." The group listened with intent ears.

"The first requirement is that you help with anything around here that needs to be done. I'm old and can't do much, and all I got is LadyBoy here." Amara assumed LadyBoy was Show Pony, being that he wore such...interesting clothes.

"I have a car that you men can have, but it needs to be fixed up. If you can't manage that, there's a mechanic in town, but I'd rather not go to him unless it's imperative. I'm not made of money." The group nodded, and Frank looked up in surprise. Amara knew that it had to be because they were being given a car.

"The second requirement is that you DON'T give up my position. I need to lay low, being an important DJ and all." He paused, looking at Amara, who was confused. "I'm the one and only DJ for the killjoy pirate radio station, doll. Pretty cool, huh?" She nodded.  
"So anyway, like I said," he continued, "I'm sure BL/ind has a list of names, and I can't have any of yours come back to me. So, I propose we all take on Killjoy names." The men looked at each other, then Gerard addressed the doctor.

"We already came up with our killjoy names," he explained. "I'm Party Poison."

"I'm Jet Star," Ray added.

"The name's Kobra Kid, with a K," said Mikey.

"Fun Ghoul at your service," Frank grinned. Show and Dr. D did double takes at his alias. They looked at him for a moment, then turned their eyes to Amara.

"So, little lady, what's yours?" Amara looked at all the men in turn, a little frightened. She didn't know how to get a killjoy name. Was there some special ceremony? Frank saw her face, and patted her on the back.

"It's okay, we'll think of something. What are you good at?"

"Um...I dunno," she answered shyly. She never thought she had any talents.

"Well you're fast," offered Mikey.

"Am I?" She was surprised.

"Of course you are! Back when we were trying to catch the train, you ran seriously fast. I'd never seen someone that quick." Gerard told her in an awed voice.

"Oh. Matt raced me a lot. Made me faster."

"Really? Well running fast is always a good skill. Being able to outrun the enemy."

"What enemy?"

"Never mind. Anyway, you were as fast as a missile."

"Nope. Faster." She stuck out her tongue.

"We should call you Missile Kid."

"I like it! Mad Gear and the Missile Kid," she mused.

"So what, are you one of us now?" He teased.

"Every band needs a fuzzy haired girl to be complete."

"Yeah, that's what we have Ray for," he chuckled. She snorted loudly.

"Mad Gear and the Missile Kid," he repeated. "I like the sound of that." They all smiled down at her, and she blushed. She felt like one of them now that she had her very own killjoy name. 

Missile Kid, she thought to herself, turning the words over in her mind.

"Now," said Dr. D, interrupting her thoughts. "To keep safe, you all must use your killjoy names and nothing else. Those are your names now. They'll be Party, Kobra, Jet, Ghoul and Missile for short. You got that?"

Missile nodded, and the men followed suit. She felt an enormous sense of power flow through her veins as she accepted her new name.

"Come on," said Ghoul, jumping up eagerly. "Let's go explore."

Party, Kobra, Jet and Missile rose, following him out of the diner.


	5. Don't Believe What They Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by Deming

The screen bloomed into life from the darkness. It erupted with words blinking and zoomed down the space next to a picture of a young woman. The name next to her picture read: AEON RILEY. The picture displayed rotated slowly. A lithe hand tapped the screen and scrolled through the information.

“She's perfect for the project,” said the female figure to whom the hand belonged. “Recently relocated to Battery City with no relatives or friends close.”

“She's going to be a real asset to this company.” This comment came from a rough voice.

“Would you like us to destroy all her memories?” The Asian woman turned away from the screen to face the man. The low florescent lights illuminated his bald head and hard features.

“No. You remember what happened with Project Bulletproof.” The man never took his eyes from off the screen. “We would have to replace all of them. It's too intricate to fabricate, the subject would recognize the false memories. Only certain memories need to be replaced.” He reached out to touch the screen, his hand hovering a hair's breadth above it.

“I see. . .and what is the estimated probability of success?” The woman asked guardedly.

“In the forty-fifth percentile.”

“Forty-five percent-” she hissed.

“Is enough to proceed.” Korse's voice rose slightly. “If you have concerns, perhaps you would like to volunteer for the procedure as a test subject?” Korse turned to the woman, looking at her for the first time. The woman swallowed and turned her face from his gaze, pretending to watch the screen.

“You hired me to voice my concerns, sir.”

“And now you have. I also hired you to follow orders. Can you do that?” Korse stared the woman down with his black-hole eyes. The woman felt a shiver of fear as she held his eyes. She cleared her throat and squared her shoulders.

“Of course. The procedure will work.” She surveyed the information flying across the screen again. “Her family lives on the other side of the country. We could fake emails, video calls. We have her psych profile and history. No one would be the wiser.” The woman tapped her fingers on her cheek in thought.

“Too messy. And a waste of resources. Her heart surgery is this week, and everybody knows how risky it can be.” The corners of his mouth rose slightly, unveiling his teeth in a harsh sneer.

“A tragic accident.” The woman smiled at the thought. Much less messy.

“We'll need a body double,” Korse told her after a moment of silence.

“I'll arrange everything, sir. Project Destroya is green.”

*

Party Poison wrapped his belt around his waist and then sat down. The phone started ringing, quietly though because it was night. He debated for moment whether or not to pick it up. He decided to let it go to the machine. Someone could check it in the morning, Party Poison had a watch shift to get ready for. He checked his gun to make sure it was loaded and in good order before pulling his boots on. The machine picked up the call as he was strapping his boots.

“Hi guys, it's Aeon.”

Party Poison stilled.

“I was just calling to see how you are doing.” She hesitated, her voice sounding subdued. “I haven't heard from you guys in a while. I. . .I guess you've been busy.” This pause was longer than the last one. Party Poison could hear her exhale her breath. He held his own. “Look, I'm going in for surgery tomorrow morning. I'm just letting you know. I hope Amara is well. Tell her I miss her. I miss you all.” Another pause. “Hope to see you soon.” She hung up.

Party Poison let out his breath. He was still for a few moments before finishing lacing up his   
boots. He double-checked his gun and then put it in his holster. He was ready for his night-watch.

*

Aeon lay still on the table as the liquid anesthesia flowed directly into her veins via the I.V. drip. It chilled her arm as the cold substance worked it's way too her heart. She could feel her head becoming fuzzy as the nurses spoke to her in soothingly. She didn't focus on what they were saying, just their tones were enough. They fixed an oxygen mask over her mouth; the second dose of anesthetics.

“Just relax Aeon,” a nurse advised her, “if you start to feel sleepy, don't fight it. Take deep breaths now.”

Aeon nodded, feeling increasingly groggy as she breathed in. The gas tickled her throat, making her cough. The nurse pulled the mask away to let her cough and then returned it to her face. Aeon felt her limbs get heavy and light at the same time. Her eyelids fluttered.

“Will I dream?” She asked, holding onto the last vestige of consciousness. A nurse patted her arm reassuringly.

“No, Aeon. Sleep now.”

Aeon did as the nurse told her and slipped into oblivion.

*

The bedsheets were heavy. They pressed down on Aeon and encircled her like she was in a cocoon. She could feel all the tubes and monitoring devices attached to her body, strangest of which were wires fixed all over her head. The machines she was hooked up to beeped rhythmically, almost lulling her back into unconsciousness. But Aeon forced her eyes open and took in her surroundings.

Aeon's bed was positioned against the wall of a very large white room and even in her muddled state of mind, Aeon observed that there were no visible doors or windows. There were exercise machines to her left and a curtained off bathroom to the right. Displayed on the walls and ceiling was the Better Living Industries logo, moving around slightly.

As her mind began unclogging, Aeon became alarmed. She had expected to wake up in a recovery ward or something. Was this the recovery ward? It couldn't be, it was only one room. With no way out. Aeon tried to push herself up but her left arm wrapped tightly in a sling. Wouldn't be good to disturb the fresh stitches. Her right arm searched for a remote to move the bed into a upright position but didn't find it. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat.  
Just then part of the wall in front of her slid away and a nurse walked in, followed by Korse's imposing figure. The nurse tilted Aeon's bed upright for her and then set to work checking all the equipment. Korse strode briskly to Aeon's side.

“Where am I?” Aeon found her voice to be weak, the complete opposite of how she intended to sound.

“You're quite safe, I assure you, Ms. Riley.” Korse patted her left hand. Aeon wanted to yank it away.

“That's not what I asked.” This time she was able to make her voice sound adequately harsh. Korse's hand tightened around hers like a vice.

“I would be a little more grateful, if I were you, Ms. Riley, after we went to all this trouble to make sure you recover properly. We even built you your own room.”

“You mean my own cell?” Aeon spat through gritted teeth, if he squeezed any harder he might break bones. “Why did you go to all that trouble?”

“You are a very talented young woman and we-”

“I told you I wasn't interested!” More than ever Aeon wished her arm wasn't in a sling. She wanted to rip that smug look off his face.

“I'm sure we can convince you to change your mind.” Korse released her hand just as the nurse injected something into her IV.

“People will come looking for me,” she said as the drugs leaked into her veins.

“No, they won't.” With that Korse and the nurse strode out of the room, leaving Aeon alone in a half-consciousness.

*

The passage of time was indiscernible. Aeon slowly lost her grip on reality. She was restrained to the soft cloud she lay on. The once-bright room was dark. The only light that showed was from the wall-screens. The images displayed on it flashing by quickly. At first the walls showed images and videos of her life, but they were wrong. They showed her things that never happened, things did happen but were different somehow. Her mind was too foggy to think about it too much, but some part of her recognized it as false. Sometimes she would protest. It hurt to protest. Anytime she denied what was on the screen, her head felt like it was on fire from the inside. She refused to give in. She no longer knew why she couldn't give in, but she knew it was important. So she screamed until her throat was raw. She struggled against the restraints, tearing her muscles and making her wrists and ankles bleed.

Sometimes they came into to feed her. But she would bite the hands that fed her. She clamped her mouth shut tightly. They had to bring in a metal thing to pry her mouth open. They put a tube down her throat and force food into her stomach. She struggled, gagging, crying, screaming. It was no use, but she fought every time they came. She began to hate being fed more than the fire inside her mind.

Aeon began to notice that there were gaps, in her memories. Nebulous blanks that caused Aeon to distress. She couldn't remember where she was. She didn't know how she got here. The questions burned her soul and drove her to near-madness. Why couldn't she remember? The screens began to answer her questions. They filled in the blanks in her memory. They gave her relief from madness. It was comforting to be able to remember.

She was recently orphaned. Her parents didn't leave her any money. She was going to die because she couldn't get the surgery she needed. Then BL/Ind stepped in. Their charity program found her and paid for her moving expenses. She would go to Battery City and have her operation for free. BL/Ind was so generous. Aeon owed her life to BL/Ind. She would work to pay them back. Aeon would work for BL/Ind. They saved her life. She owed her life to BL/Ind. She needed to pay them back. Aeon should get a job at Better Living Industries.

Eventually Aeon was able to get out of bed. The nurses put her on a treadmill and other exercise machines because she had lost some muscle-mass during her recovery time. She could feel her head beginning to clear. Everything that went on in the room before seemed like a vague nightmare, though it was an ever-present warning of the madness she could slip back into. All the while, the screens showed her things she would need to know for her new job. User manuals for BL/Ind equipment, schematics, computer programming information, the works. She studied hard, she had to be the best employee. They told her that if she wanted to work for BL/Ind that she would have to give up her name. BL/Ind employees do not have names. This was hard for Aeon. Her name was all she had left to remember her parents by. She spent many days pacing the room endlessly considering whether or not to go through with it. But finally it did end, and it was with resolve that Aeon decided to give up her name and work for Better Living Industries.

*

“What is your name?” Korse gazed at the girl in front of him. She was dressed in a form-fitting, black and white bodysuit that was the typical BL/Ind uniform for employees. Over her chest was the Better Living Industries logo. The girl's hair was cut short and dyed from the brown it was before to black. She stared back at him with equal intensity. If this was a staring contest, it would be a draw.

“I don't have one.” The girl's voice was flat, lacking in any emotional inflections.  
Korse nodded. “Who do you work for?”

“I am an employed by Better Living Industries.”

“You have no name, what is your number?”

The girl raised her arm and showed the number that was written on her sleeve: #525957-2. The corners of Korse's mouth rose in his slippery smile. He walked around her, making sure she had regained the muscle-tone she had before. He held his hand up and the Asain woman placed a hand-held computer with her medical information on it. Korse scrolled through it, reviewing the tests, her physical fitness.

“You are fit for duty, 525957-2.” He handed the hand-held back and motioned a nurse forward. The nurse held a syringe with a large needle. “Left hand please.” The girl complied and held out her left hand for the nurse, palm-down. The nurse grabbed hold of her wrist, inserted the needle into where the wrist meets the hand, and injected the syringe's contents. If it hurt, the girl showed no sign.

“Wha. . .what was that for?” It was the first sign of hesitation, first expression of emotion during the evaluation.

“A microchip. That way if you ever get lost or if someone kidnaps you, we'll be able to find you.” Korse spoke reassuringly. Employee #525957-2 nodded, returning to her previous dispassion. 

“You are officially fit for work. Dismissed.”

The girl, who had been locked in single room for weeks finally strode out of it and into the real world.

“I almost can't believe it.” This comment came from Korse's right hand, the Asian woman. Korse didn't reply as he also strode out of the room.

“BL/Ind always succeeds.” He finally spoke up.

“Except with Project Bulletproof. . .”

“We will get her back.” Korse didn't even look at her as they strode through the hallways of BL/Ind's headquarters. “She is very close.”

The Asian woman opened her mouth as if to ask him what he meant but then shut it. She knew questioning Korse was never healthy.


	6. Remember Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by me, italics by Deming

Missile sat on the roof of the diner, looking out at the surrounding zone. The sun was receding into the horizon slowly, leaving its red mark on the landscape as it set. All was quiet, and Missile found her thoughts wandering. She was still very confused as to what was going on with Mad Gear. Aeon had explained to her that they were relocating so they could find a better fan base. Missile wasn't sure whether she should believe that or not. After all, Mad Gear hadn't so much as picked up their instruments at all that week. Surely they would have practiced.   
Then again, they were being housed by a DJ. That had to count for something. Missile decided she was too curious for her own good. She stood up slowly, ready to jump off, when a voice startled her, making her fall against the shingles.

"Missile! Where are you?" Kobra Kid stood almost directly underneath her spot on the roof, looking around the landscape in vain. 

"I'm up here," she called out painfully. She had hit her elbow on the rough edge of the roofing and was now bleeding. 

Kobra looked up and saw Missile holding her arm gingerly. He was on the roof next to her in one swift movement.

"What are you doing up here? Are you okay? What happened?"

"I um... I came up here to clear my head. I like being up high. I fell when you called for me."

"Oh, Missile," Kobra looked at her sadly, a guilty look on his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. How bad is it?"

"Not bad. It's just a scrape. Really, I'm fine." She hated to see Kobra so worried about her. She hated making people worry.

"Come on, I think it's time to go inside. It's been a long day," Kobra said, jumping off the roof. He held up his hand to assist Missile. She rolled her eyes and jumped down just as easily as he had. He shrugged. 

Kobra was right. They had had a long day. It took all week to fix the car; and Missile mostly hovered, bored. The car was finally finished that day, and Mad Gear proceeded to spend all day learning about the zones. Show Pony as their guide, of course. Missile's legs were tired from being stuffed in the Trans Am for hours. Mad Gear seemed to be really interested in all the different places, but to Missile, it was all just one big desert. They kept talking about things she didn't understand; using words she had never heard of.

Missile and Kobra walked into the diner to see the other members of Mad Gear gathered around the table. They were eating out of white cans. POWER PUP was written in bold black lettering.  
"Um... isn't that dog food?" Kobra asked in awe. Party nodded and grunted unhappily.

"It's really all there is..." Jet said forlornly. Kobra sighed and sat down, motioning for Missile to do the same. She sat next to him and picked up a can and a fork. She frowned at the sealed can, reluctant to eat its contents. 

Ghoul reached over and took Missile's can and peeled it open with a can opener. He did the same for Kobra, then handed the cans back silently. Missile had never seen him so glum. 

Missile took her fork and dipped it in her can slowly. She lifted the brown glob to her mouth, and started chewing. It was almost tasteless, which was nearly as bad as if it had been downright disgusting. All she could really taste was the fake chicken and beef they had flavored it with. And there wasn't much.

Beside her, Kobra choked. Everyone looked at him and saw that his face was red. Party leaned forward worriedly, but Kobra motioned for him to keep eating.

"T-This is horrible. But I need to eat. Don't worry about me, guys. Where are Show and Dr. D?" Kobra asked, obviously trying to avert the attention away from himself. As he asked that, they both came rolling in from Dr. D's little "lair."

"Hello, Mad Gear. And Missile Kid. How are we today," asked their host cheerfully, wheeling over to the table as Show sat down beside the other men. Jet motioned to Kobra, still trying to eat the Power Pup in front of him. Dr. D looked at the table of dog food and the obviously disgusted group and nodded.

"You'll get used to the food. Right, LadyBoy?" Show nodded in agreement.   
"It's disgusting, but it's all we've got. Anyway, we need to talk to all of you. Especially Missile Kid." Missile looked up with a mouthful of Power Pup, surprised. She swallowed before speaking.

"What about me?"

"Well, you seem to have... come from nowhere." 

"Oh, bu-" Missile tried to speak up but was cut off. 

"Party told us about your mother and how you were raised by some friends. But what he didn't tell us is why you're here instead of being warm and cosy at home with them."

Missile put down her fork and laid her head on her arms. The men waited for a reply before realizing that her shoulders were moving up and down, her body shuddering with silent sobs. Jet rubbed her back soothingly and waited until she slowly raised her head.

"I... Okay. I'll tell you. But it's bad. Really bad." Missile sniffled and rubbed her eyes. Jet squeezed her hand and nodded for her to continue; all eyes intently upon the child.

"The tests that were being done on my mother had something to do with pregnancy. I think they did stuff to her. Bad stuff. Stuff that made me... messed up. Mom ran away with me and we stayed with Matt and Jamie. But then Mom left. To keep me safe. I was just a baby when she died. I don't know the name of the man who killed her, but I do know that he's the one that killed Jamie and Matt."

The silence left by Missile's pause was deafening. Kobra spoke up.

"Th-They killed your guardians?"

"Yeah," Missile replied sadly. "They found out that I was living with Jamie and Matt. They came for me. And that's the bad part. Whatever those experiments did to me... I'm a wanted girl. And they're gonna kill anyone who gets in their way. I um... I've doomed you all."

Missile burst into tears again. Show got up from his seat to hug Missile tightly. This time, however, she was almost inconsolable. Jet stood up and silently lifted Missile into his arms, sitting her down on his lap, running his fingers through the hair that was so much like his.

"Well I have some information for you, Missile," Dr D told her when her sobs had quieted a little. She looked at him with curious, tear-filled eyes. Having gotten her attention, he continued.

"The man who murdered your mother is a man known as Korse. We don't know much about him, but he runs Better Living Industries. They became a very powerful corporation after the great fires of 2012. They helped the community come back to life. But don't be fooled, young one. BL/ind is pure evil. They brainwash people."

"Brainwash?"

"The advertisements promise perfection. People fall for that kind of thing."

"So... what does this have to do with me?"

"They also perform experiments in pursuit of making better medicines, better innovations. They persuade ordinary people to help them. We're not sure what they experiment on."

"Well, what about the pregnancy experiments they were doing with my mom?"

"I'm not sure. If I had to guess, they were probably trying to ingrain the love of BL/ind into the baby's head before it ever leaves the womb. But it seems that after your mom escaped, they stopped. There's no information, though. This is a guess." Dr D looked at Missile, trying to figure out if there was anything he left out. 

"Missile, dear. I need you to tell me something. It could be important." Dr D addressed her. She nodded for him to continue.

"What was your mother's name?"

"H-Her name was Jenny," Missile choked out with tears bubbling at her eyelids. There was a minute of silence before Party stood up silently and left the room. Everyone looked in his direction curiously and returned to eating almost simultaneously. Dr D broke the silence after a minute. 

"LadyBoy? Lean over and switch on the set. I wanna try to get a BL/ind signal."

"BL/ind? Why?"

"Because Missile needs to hear the lies they spout." Show did as he was told and switched on the small television on the table next to the booth. He fiddled with the controls for a minute, getting nothing but static. Finally, he got a picture. Missile could barely make out an Asian woman, speaking Japanese. Everyone sat there and watched her. Missile didn't understand a word of Japanese, but there were subtitles. She squinted to read them.

"Better Living Industries strives to be perfect. In our pursuit to eliminate all flaws from daily life, we give medical procedures to those in need. Unfortunately, some have rotten bodies, as an apple may have a rotten core [All apples have been outlawed for this reason]. Some bodies can not handle the techniques of our medical professionals. It is our duty to inform the public that one of our patients has passed away. We have diagnosed the problem, and have created this new and improved antidote. Never fear death from surgery again!"

The woman help up a small vial, a large grin on her face. The camera flashed to scenes of a blonde woman, unmoving on a metal table. Her head was covered by a sheet by nurses, but not before Missile recognized her face.

"Why would BL/ind admit that they killed someone?" Dr D absentmindedly asked Show Pony. Jet, Ghoul, and Kobra all looked at Missile with horror in their eyes. Missile got up and ran into the room Party had retreated to. She found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his eyes hollow with painful thoughts. He looked up and saw Missile standing there, losing her ability to see through the tears. Party held his hand out to her and she took it, sitting down next to him.

"P-Party? Did you hear that? The transmission? Th-The announcement?"

"Yes. Someone died. Probably one of them," Party replied begrudgingly. 

"N-No, Party. It was... It was..." Missile gulped in an attempt to swallow the sobs that were trying to make her way out of her throat. he knew if she let herself cry, she would not stop until she was exhausted. 

"Aeon," she finished. Party's jaw dropped and he hugged her tightly. She knew he was tearing up too. 

"P-Party," she asked nervously.

"Yes?"

"Why did you run out?"

"Because of your story."

"Did I upset you?"

"It-It's not that."

"Party?"

"I knew Jenny." 

"Y-You did?" Missile gaped.

"Yes. We um... we were in love."

"What?" Missile's eyes grew wider.

"Missile," Party took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly. "You're my daughter."

*

_The only person I could remember carried me to the car. I must have been wandering in this desert for a while, my shoe soles were worn. I could see where I had walked by the bloody trail my feet left on the ground. Gerard sat me down on the passenger seat. He frantically rooted around for his canteen and when he found it, thrust it into my hands. I poured the water down my throat. Too exhausted to even swallow, I let the life-giving liquid run down my esophagus. While I downed the water, Gerard began to wrap up my feet with napkins._

_“How did this happen?” Gerard's hands moved around my feet deftly. Clearly, he had had some experience with this. My vision spun as he cinched the bandage tighter. “Sorry,” he mumbled._

_Thinking over his question, my hand instinctively went to my stomach. I looked down as if I could see through my skin and into my insides. Nothing. I couldn't remember anything about what happened to me. The most recent thing I could recall was running away, escaping out of some facility, and then wandering into the desert, and even those were a hazy._

_“I-I don't. . .” even though the water had helped clear my mind a little, I still could barely function, “remember. . .I don't know.”_

_Gerard seemed to notice the movement of my hand towards stomach. He didn't comment on it though. He knew to trust what I said. Although, I could the doubt he was struggling with._

_“Can you remember anything?” He prodded gently._

_“You don't trust me. It's ok, I don't blame you.” He kept silent, maybe in shame, I couldn't tell. “All I can remember is ending up in this desert, the sirens, people chasing me, gunfire. I don't know.” Now I was reliving the brief flashes from my escape. Tasers setting my flesh on fire, but never taking me down. My hands, knees, and jaw connecting with the rough cement. The taste of blood heavy on my increasingly dry tongue. Never stopping my run, even when I wasn't being chased. Crashing into bodies who didn't even offer to help. Collapsing with exhaustion in the desert._

_“Jenny! Jenny! Hey, look at me!” Gerard's hands were around my face, and his voice was very loud. “Jesus, you're scaring me, Jenny.”_

_“Please just take me home.” I almost pleaded him. I didn't want to talk about it. I couldn't talk about it. I couldn't even think about it._

_He threw his arms around me, gently though, and held me for a long time. “Of course,” he said into my shoulder._

_As Gerard drove, watching the lack of distinctness in the landscape pass by cleared my head of all other thoughts. The fading light cast the desert in a beautiful orange glow. Eventually, I became lost in the desert of my unconsciousness._


End file.
